Wicked Inspiration
by Eric Jablow
Summary: At Raft College, Daria and Jane have a terrifying encounter with the denizens of the night. Crossover with BtVS.
1. Wicked Inspiration

Every time she returns to Boston, Faith gets into a fight. The Buffyverse is the possession of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. The Dariaverse is the possession of Glenn Eichler and MTV. Rated R for sexual content. This is the first non-canonical romance story I've ever written. F/RW, JL/DM

Wicked Inspiration

by Eric Jablow

"So, Lane, why are we up on the roof of the Carl Yaztremski Parking Structure, and on a Friday night?"

"Professor Thanton, the little bat, says my paintings are losing touch with reality. He wants me to 'see the beauty in ordinary life.' And we're both between guys at the moment."

"Tony would have prefered Quinn in her Fashion Club days." Daria Morgendorffer no longer felt the need to cover up her T-shirts now that she was at Raft College but she still wore her Doc Martens boots. Jane hadn't changed at all at BFAC.

"How is the little proto-brain doing?"

"She's doing well at Bryn Mawr. She didn't snag David, but she's doing okay. I just wish she wouldn't try to imitate that accent." She sits down on her camp chair and starts writing in a notebook. Jane finishes setting up her easel and watercolors and starts to paint the cityscape.

* * *

"Hoo boy. Gotta stretch. I can feel my legs turning to wood." 

"Huh? What did you say, Dar?"

"I'm getting stiff. We've been here an hour."

"It's coffee time!" Jane sets her palette down and dances a little dance.

"Damn. You made the coffee tonight."

"Yep!" Jane pulls out a Thermos from her bag and pours two cups.

"You're allergic to decaf, aren't you." Jane chuckles while Daria takes a sip. Daria coughs a bit as Jane swallows a mouthful of 'Lane Blend.' "Can I have a look?"

Jane waves Daria around to look at her painting. It's a softened version of the streets and buildings before them, the streetlights have a gentle glow, and a couple of strollers look handsome on the street. "Very nice. But why is the moon so red and menacing?"

"I paint 'em as I see 'em, Morgendorffer. What are you writing?"

"A new story. 'It's been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my home town.'" Jane spits out her coffee.

"Don't do that, Daria. Geez."

"Yeah. Lawndale is certainly not the little town that time forgot. That God forgot, maybe. I'm getting tired of Melody Powers, so I'm actually trying to write a fantasy story that doesn't suck."

"Let's see. You were in the bookstore, and you opened up Robert Jordan's latest."

_Flashback_

Daria is in the local Boundary's, and she picks up a 700-page book labeled 'Book 23 of the Wheel of Time Trilogy.' She opens it to a random page, screams, and drops the book.

_ End of Flashback_

"And I wanted to write a fantasy story where none of the characters are as brain dead as Kevin. I've got a few pages down."

"Cool."

* * *

"You hear screaming, Daria?" 

"People don't usually scream until after they read my stories."

"No, really, Daria. Do you hear screaming?"

"Come to think of it, yeah." They walk to the edge of the roof and look at the street below. Four men are chasing a woman of about their age, maybe a little older. The woman cries, "Come and get it, boys!"

"What should we do, Daria?"

Daria reaches for her cell phone, while looking down at the chase; the woman is heading straight for the parking lot. Daria gasps. "Look at their faces."

Jane looks down at the woman and the fanged men. "Is this a 'Sick Sad World' episode?" Suddenly, the woman reaches the base of the parking lot, jumps, and grabs onto the ledge of the second level. She drags herself over. "Daria, could Melody Powers be a real person?"

"Looks like Xena to me." One of the pursuers jumps and reaches the second level and continues to climb. The other three run onto the ground level, and Daria and Jane lose sight of them.

"Better call 911, Daria."

"Yeah, Jane." She punches in the emergency number, and Jane sees the climber reach the third level ledge and climb over. Daria starts taking into the phone. They hear a loud scream from below, and then a shout of "Slayer!" Daria closes her cell phone and says, "What does Beavis' favorite band have anything to do with this?"

"I don't particularly care right now, Daria. We'd better hide."

"We'll be pretty obvious with all that." Daria points at the easel.

"Can't be helped." Suddenly, they see the woman run onto the roof from a stairway, while one of the pursuers reaches the roof from another stairway. The woman runs toward him, as a second pursuer follows her onto the roof. Suddenly, the woman throws something she was holding at the man she was running toward. The stake pierces his chest, and he vanishes into dust.

"Oh, shit," say both Daria and Jane.

The woman runs toward a light stanchion and jumps into the air, grabbing it ten feet above its base. She swings around and sees Daria and Jane. "Look out behind you!"

They whip their heads around and see a third pursuer climbing onto the roof behind them. Jane wrenches her Thermos open and splashes the climber in his face. The climber yells and brings his hands to his eyes; the hot coffee has taken its toll. He starts to fall onto the roof of the parking structure, and then Daria runs toward him and kicks him in the jaw. The Doc Martens boot makes a satisfying "Thud!" Then the climber starts rolling on the roof in pain; his upper fangs now pierce his chin and his lower fangs his cheeks. Daria steps back in fear.

Jane turns around: the woman has jumped from the light pole back onto the roof, and she is now trading blows with the pursuer. Jane watches for a moment, turns to Daria and her victim, and turns again to the fight The woman pulls a piece of wood from her waist, and the man knocks it away. The woman gives him a nasty head-butt, and he falls back.

Daria stares at the thing she kicked with a sick fascination; its eyes are yellow, its head is all bumpy, and its hands are claws. The thing tries to unlock its jaw, and its claws tear the skin of its face while he does so. Daria watches for a moment, her face takes on her normal blank expression, and she kicks the thing in the ear. Daria hears its skull crack.

Jane now sees the woman force her opponent into an arm-bar; she twists, and Jane sees its arm break. The woman throws her opponent at the stanchion; it slumps to the ground. The woman watches as her opponent slowly gets up. "Ready for more, big guy?" Her opponent growls and calls out "Slayer," again. He staggers toward her and the woman turns her head toward Jane. "Hey, girlie, how about some help here."

Jane is stunned, possibly because she's watching a woman her age fight a monster, possibly because she just saw Daria kick a monster in the jaw, and possibly because a stranger just called her "Girlie." "Come on," calls the woman. She points at Jane's feet, and Jane follows her gaze to see a dropped wooden brush. Jane picks it up and tosses it underhand to the woman. The woman grabs it; in one fluid motion, she reverses it and stabs her opponent in the chest. He vanishes.

The woman walks past Jane to Daria and her victim; she whistles. "Wicked! You sure you're not one of us?"

"One of what?"

Jane steps beside them, and the woman takes their hands. "I guess not. Anyhow, you want to do the honors?"

"What?" asks Daria. The woman places the brush in Daria's fist and points at the thing's chest. Daria kneels above it and stabs where the woman pointed. It turns to dust.

"Well, that was a wicked performance. I'm Faith, by the way." Daria and Jane mumble out their names. "You two okay? You five-by-five?"

"Um, no," says Daria. Jane says nothing.

"You'll get over it." Suddenly, they hear a siren. "Oh, shit. You called the cops. The cops really don't like me"

"Jane?" says Daria. Jane mumbles something nondescript back. "Jane, paint Faith's portrait, please?"

"Right." Jane wakes herself up a bit, arranges Faith in front of her easel, and starts a new watercolor.

"What were those things?" asks Daria.

Faith replies, "Vampires."

Jane's both too engrossed in her painting and too stunned to say anything.

"It's not just on 'Sick Sad World."

"No, Vamps are real. I fight 'em for a living."

"Shit."

"Yeah, me too."

A police car drives onto the roof, and Daria goes to meet the policemen. She tells them that the three of them had been on the roof the entire evening, and that the running people had never made it onto the roof. The two policemen talk to Jane and Faith for a bit, and then they head back to the police car and drive off.

"Oh, hell. The Sergeant winked at me. He knows who I am. This can be trouble."

"You want to see the painting?" says Jane.  
"Yeah!" It's a wonderful rendition of Faith in her primal fury. "Can I keep it?"

"Sure. Let me sign it." Jane does, and Faith kisses her cheek. Jane blinks a moment; she's stunned again.

Faith pulls out a cell phone and hits a pre-set combination. A few seconds later, she says into the phone, "Robin, can you pick me up at the Carl Yaztremski Parking Structure at Raft College?" She listens for a moment, and then she says, "We can either get steaks right away, or we can go to our room and get the steaks later. What are you up for?" She hears Robin's reply, and says "Wicked. Thanks." She hangs up.

Daria has set Jane onto her chair, and Faith walks to the two of them. "She'll be okay. It's hard to take at first, but she'll be okay."

"I hope so," says Daria.

"I really like those boots. Somewhat Willow-ish, but very practical. You sure you're not one of us Slayers?"

"Pretty sure."

"Oh, well. Gotta go. 'Hungry and horny afterwards' we always say. Here's our organization's card. Take care of each other, huh?" Faith picks up her portrait and walks away. Soon they hear a car drive to the front of the structure and stop. they hear a trunk open and close, a door slam, and then the car drives off.

Jane stirs after a few minutes.

"You okay there, Jane?"

"I just watched a stranger kill two vampires, one with one of my paint brushes."

"I just broke the jaw and the skull of a vampire, and killed it with your paint brush. How do you think I feel?"

Suddenly Jane pulls Daria to her and kisses her soundly.

"Have you lost it, Jane?"

"You don't feel it?"

"What?"

"You know--estrogen poisoning. Damn--as soon as she touched me, I could feel it. If I don't jump somebody's bones right now, I might have to throw myself off this roof."

"Jane, is this an Alison thing?"

"Heck no. I know--weird for us, but you're the only one in this town I like. Love. Whatever."

"Love."

"Not that I want to marry you, amiga. But I do love you, you know."

"Yeah."

"So, either I pick up a stranger at the Electrum, or I do it with someone I love and respect."

"Well, I couldn't let you pick up a stranger; you might catch something."

Jane grins. "Ready to go, amiga?"

* * *

A month later Daria is in her dorm room; the phone rings. She picks it up. 

"Hello."

"Hello. Is this Ms. Daria Morgandorffer?"

"If you're a telemarketer, I'll sue your ass off."

"Of course you will. No, I'm Xander Harris, of the WCI. I understand you are looking for employment."

"Yes, I am. The library job doesn't pay very much"

"I've heard that said. Why don't we arrange for lunch at Legal Seafood at noon on Saturday. An acquaintence of yours would like to sit in, and your friend Ms. Lane is welcome too."

"That would be nice."

"It's a date."

* * *

"Daria," of course, was a spinoff of "Beavis and Butthead." Alison tried to seduce Jane in "Is It Fall Yet." 


	2. Inspired Questions

Daria Morgendorffer and Jane Lane have just faced vampires for the first time. Even more unsettling, they've just dealt with Faith for the first time. What does the Cynical Duo do next? 

This story starts the morning after the main action of "Wicked Inspiration". It's rated R for sex and language, but I'm skipping over the actual events. The Buffyverse is the possession of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. The Dariaverse is the possession of Glenn Eichler and MTV. 

One note on timing: "Is It College Yet" was broadcast in January of 2002. For the purpose of this story, I'll assume that Daria, Jodie, and Jane's college searches occur during the 2001-2002 school year. Since I want this to take place more than a year after "Chosen", I am placing this story during the spring of 2005, and Daria and Jane are juniors at their colleges. Jane has taken summer classes to catch up to Daria. 

Inspired Questions 

by Eric Jablow 

"Ow!" 

"Sorry." 

"I'll shut the damn alarm clock off." Jane turns and fiddles with the clock radio, and soon they have blessed silence again. She turns toward her friend and says, "Hey." 

"Hey." 

Jane raises herself up on her elbows and looks at the room. There she is in Daria Morgendorffer's dorm room, her second home in Boston. She'd often been there before; sometimes she had even napped on Daria's bed. This was unique to them, however. 

"Dar, you okay?" 

"Panicking would just be so tiresome." 

They look at each other for aminute, and then Jane says, "Ooh, that was good." 

"Yeah." 

"It took you a while to get into it. Not used to this sort of thing?" 

"Well, this was my first time with a--" Daria turned away, and Jane moved to face her again. 

"Mine, too. You're not used to anything like this at all, are you." 

"I just can't relax with the few boyfriends I've had." 

"Heavy armor. Someday you'll find someone with a can opener." 

"All the other times ended up vaguely disappointing for both of us. I've started giving up." 

"Started?" 

"Okay, Lane, okay." 

"Fixing you up with dates has never worked. If you can relax only with a Lane, I could--" Daria keeps Jane from mentioning Trent by the simple expedient of pressing a pillow into her face. Jane taps out and Daria releases her. 

"Mmph." 

"You asked for it." 

"At least I got you to relax." 

"Don't look so proud." 

"Only someone who's known you for six years could have done it." 

"That's what I'm afraid of. I'll never find a husband that way." 

"What? No confessions of eternal love?" 

"Oh, I'll always love you, Lane. Just not this way." 

"Waah." 

"Well, only if I'm in extreme need." 

"That's the spirit." Jane kisses Daria on her nose. "So, why exactly did you agree? I'm curious." 

"Because I knew that if I just went to sleep by myself, I'd have nightmares about those--things." 

"Vampires." 

"Vampires. Did you see that thing claw its face open after I kicked it?" Daria shudders. 

"I saw the aftermath." 

"I write about creepy things, but I've never seen anything like that in real life, and I don't care to be reminded of it. Sleeping with you was a better alternative." 

"Just consider it my public service for the day. Hey--do you think Jodie would have appreciated my charitable efforts?" 

"Jane, were you brainwashed at Lawndale High?" 

"You saved me from that." 

"Right. So, why did you suggest this? I mean, you turned Alison down." 

"You didn't watch Faith fighting." 

"Not really. I was busy." 

"You didn't see how beautiful it was. Such fury--I could spend weeks painting her. And it just turned me on so." 

Daria falls back on her bed, and the two friends just stare into space for a bit. Jane smiles--what they had done the previous night has not ended their friendship. Then, Jane's stomach rumbles; she says, "Daria?" 

"I know. You know where the showers are. Grab a robe, and I'll follow you. Breakfast's on me."

* * *

Daria and Jane walk into the Libercoffee Cafe; the barista recognizes them, and prepares Jane's triple espresso and Daria's latte. Jane orders pancakes, and Daria orders challah French toast, and they find a corner table. 

"So, what are you going to do today?" 

"Besides going to a bar and trying to pick up a guy or two?" 

"You are very trying." 

"I don't know, Jane. Actually, I'm a little frightened about what's out there at night. Somehow, solving my guy problem seems a little unimportant right now." 

"I wonder how many of those things there are around here." 

"There can't be too many. Enough of those things, and people would know." 

"I guess." 

"Anyhow, there's string quartet concert at my dorm common room tonight. We can listen to some real music for a change. And, I'll protect you from the ghosties and ghoulies." 

"You? I didn't see you fighting." 

"I'm more a--no, I'll shut up now." 

The waitress delivers their breakfasts, and they spend the next twenty minutes pigging out. 

They wave at the waitress, and she comes to the table and hands Daria the check. Daria opens her purse and pulls out a new twenty. 

"Got your Yuppie foodstamp, I see." 

"Stopped by the ATM after class yesterday." She sets her purse down, and a business card drops to the table. 

"What's that?" 

"I must have grabbed it along with the bill." Daria looks at it and hands it to Jane. 

"WCI? Is this the card Faith gave you?" 

"I guess so." 

"WCI--what do you think that stands for?" 

"I have no clue." 

"Seems to be based in Cleveland. They have a post office box, a phone number, and a FAX number. That's odd--the card just says, 'Faith'. No last name or anything." She hands the card back. 

Daria looks at the logo on the card. "Do those figures look like Amazons?" 

"Pretty much. Curious?" 

"Not at all." 

"Sure. Are you going to call them?" 

"Perhaps I'll send this to 'Sick Sad World'." 

"Faith wouldn't like that. We do owe her, you know." 

"She led those things to us." 

"Still. You going to call them?" 

"I'll think about it." They walk outside.

* * *

It's a few days later; her bed is made, the room is clean, and Jane has taken her easel and canvases back to BFAC. Daria sits at her desk and tries to type a report into her computer. She's distracted, however. She's making lots of typos, and she's backing up and rewriting a lot of text. Finally, she saves her file and quits. She reaches for her purse and pulls out Faith's card. She stares at it a bit, and then she picks up her phone and punches in the number.

* * *

"Damn those stupid poison claws!" 

"Sara, every hero has to get wounded sometime. Giles says you'll be Slaying in a week." 

Sara struggles with her crutch and a sandwich platter as she walks into the living room of the house that served as Slayer Central. As she gets half-way to the couch, the phone rings. Andrew picks it up. 

"216-555-7529. How may I direct your call?" 

"Hello? IS this the WCI?" 

"Hello. How may I direct your call?" Sara makes her way to the desk and puts the call on the speaker and just listens. Andrew looks annoyed. 

"Do you have a public information department? 

"Not really. Perhaps I can help you. I'm Andrew. And you are?" 

"Sorry. My name's Daria, and I met one of your empl--representatives last week. She gave me her card. I'm a little curious as to what your organization does." 

"Well, it's a bit of a secret. Who did you meet any--" Sara interrupts him and says, "Please hold a minute." She presses the mute button on the phone. 

"I could have handled that." 

"You didn't read Wood's report? That's the girl who--" 

"Oh!" 

"Just sit down, Andrew. I'll take over from here." She sits down at the desk and brings up a computer file. Andrew leaves the room to sulk, and Sara reopens the connection. 

"I'm sorry, Daria. We're a little short-handed here." 

Daria replies, "I see." She's a little frosty. 

"I'm Sara; I'm Andrew's supervisor this week. He's a bit clueless." 

"I guess." 

"You met Faith last week." 

"Yes. How did you know?" 

"We read our agents' reports. You must have some questions about what happened." 

"Lots of questions. The first one is, 'What's a Slayer?'" 

"Oh, damn. Most people ask what vampires are first." 

"Faith asked me if I was a Slayer. What in--what's that?" 

"Faith never had much self-control. We don't usually talk about that; it is somewhat of a secret, but since Faith gave the story away, I guess it'll be okay. You know, we're all impressed by you." 

"Um, why? Because I killed a vampire?" 

"Because you didn't run away screaming. Most civilians tend to panic. Then, that kick of yours was quite cool. We're trying to see how useful a tactic that is." 

"Um." 

"And, we've all seen your friend Jane's painting. We're all jealous. Some of us would like to commission our own." 

"I'll tell her." 

"Are you okay? Some people have trouble sleeping after an encounter. We can recommend and pay for a psychologist if you need one. We have some on retainer; I think there's one in Worcester." 

"I'm okay, I think. I'm nightmare-free." 

"Well, if you give us your address later, we'll send you our 'So You've Met a Vampire' brochure." 

"This happens often?" 

"Often enough." 

"So?" 

"Well, you've seen vampires. They're dead bodies animated by a demonic spirit; it's nothing like Anne Rice at all." 

"And Slayers fight them?" 

"Whatever cosmic force arranged to let vampires into this universe arranged for Slayers to fight them." 

"And how do you get to be a Slayer?" 

"Nobody knows. The job chooses you; you don't choose the job. Every so often, a girl wakes up and finds she'sbeen Chosen. She gets some truly horrific nightmares, and she gets the strength to fight those things. But she gets pursued by them too." 

"Only girls?" 

"Yeah. The working hypothesis is that God has a sense of humor." 

"You sound like someone who knows." 

"I'm on medical leave. Damn thing got me in the leg, and I'll be out of action for a week more. 

"Sorry. Look--am I going to have to worry about any more vampires?" 

"No reason you should--they're pretty rare, and the ones in Boston are laying real low. We'll Fed-Ex the brochure. 

"Thanks. So, what does WCI stand for?" 

"It's just a name. We sort of inherited it. We need to keep a low profile." 

"Okay, I guess." 

"Look--we don't have many friends in the outside world. Could you please keep this conversation confidential? Except for your friend Jane, of course." 

"Well, I'm not going to send this to 'Sick Sad World'. I don't need the pain." 

"And if you can give me your address?" 

"Sure. Daria Morgendorffer, Raft College, Williams Hall Room 232-A, Boston, MA 02134." 

"It'll be in today's mail. It's been nice chatting with you; thanks again."

* * *

It's a week later. Daria struggles with her books and a few envelopes as she walks into her dorm room. She drops her books onto her bed and starts going through her envelopes. 

"Junk. Bill. Bill. Junk. Bill. Bill. Bill." She looks at the last bill; it's much larger than she had expected. "Oh, hell. $150 for a stat book and software. Let's check the bank." She fires up her computer and brings up her copy of Quicken. "Oh, crap." She takes the bill and skims it onto her bed. "Write a check for half, call mom, or let it slide?" She gets her checkbook from her purse; Faith's card pops out with it. "Or, I can try to get a better job?" 

She picks up her phone and punches in the WCI number.

* * *

Note: That phone number is in Cleveland's area code, and it spells out as 216-555-SLAY. 


End file.
